Black and Gold
by MajorWanderer
Summary: /Transformers: Animated/Alternate Universe/ When various Autobots go offline rapidly around the galaxy, Optimus takes it upon himself and his team to deal with the situation- under the radar. But they soon find themselves roped into a mess of intergalactic proportions- with the Decepticons, the rogue Starscream, and, none other than Sentinel- hot on their tailpipes.


_**A/N:** Hello there my fellow Trans-geeks, lower your weapons and have mercy as this is my first Transformers fic ever! And let me just take the time to say, that this is one awesome fandom!  
_

_NOTE: This story is in the Transformers: Animated Universe and slightly AU. Please bear with me.  
_

_Disclaimer: Transformers: Animated is the sole property of Hasbro, and Cartoon Network._

* * *

_Slag._

That was the first word he could think of.

And it was already the _best _one so far.

Spotting a nearby rock, Hot Shot drew back his leg and gave the small stone an idle kick.

The little lump of non-metallic mineral skidded across the raw, cold ground of the lifeless planetoid, finally landing into a nearby crater with a soft 'clunk'. A light cloud of dust soon followed, the residual sand that once lay dormant inside the placid hole billing up at the edge in a puff of fine soot.

Turned out espionage just _wasn't _in his programming _after all_…

The young bot still couldn't believe he had been _so _excited about the whole gig but mere megacycles ago… sure, Team Athenia getting orders delivered personally by Ultra Magnus himself was a _huge _deal- it was the _point _of the mission that was grinding his gears up.

Out of all the things that he was capable of, reconnaissance _just _wasn't one of them.

Hot shot vented yet another sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time that solar cycle. He stared up into the black, star-speckled sky, the millions of questions and thoughts racing about his processor as his optics locked aimlessly into the sable nothingness that surrounded him. The 'Autobot Academy' graduate leaned against a nearby protruding rock, he planted his servo placidly to the side of his faceplates, leaning comfortably into it for support- _What fragged, malfunction of a bot would even bother- or worse yet- want to set foot on this… primus-forsaken rock? _

Oh wait; he already knew the answer to _that _question...

_Decepticons. _

He tilted his head slightly, his already crestfallen gaze landing steadily on to the skyline up ahead- where the perpetual black sheet of outer space met with the planetoid's curved skyline.

_Kind of… in a way…_ _maybe… _he reflected dubiously.

_They could be… couldn't they?_

For the particular piece of the puzzle, just didn't seem to match up properly with the others.

Megacycle after megacycle did the youthful pyrotechnist run over his results repeatedly from his survey of the bare planetoid's surroundings, again and again, scrolling tediously down the list of numbers and symbols.

Were he with company, and had they put forth the implication of a strange conspiracy rising, he would have scoffed and probably delivered one of his famous one-liners in response.

It _really_ wasn't much of a processor-teaser… _like, of course there were other 'bots out there that weren't on either faction of the current war and were neutrals… _he had thought. _It happens…_ _right?_

But if it really was Decepticons…

It actually _would _make sense now that he thought about it, considering his scanners _were_, in fact, wrong and the 'Cons just used some sort of fancy 'doo-dad' to purposely mess up their energy signals…

After all, if the files he read were generally accurate in description, it _would_ make them one step closer to solving the riddle… _I mean, where better to eliminate your enemies, and make them suffer at the same time, than by killing them on a lonely, barren rock of some sort somewhere off the edge of the Galaxy…?_ Which in this case, seemed to be _the _definition of the very planet- _or should he say moon…-_ that both he and his team had just happened to be the closest one positioned to.

It was all matters of discussion and re-assigning, were Team Athenia, in the end, the unit of choice to take on the task- and with Rodimus Prime as their spokesbot? It was a guarantee that they'd _have _to take the task, one way or another.

Hot Shot offlined his optics. From the looks of things, nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen anytime soon, so… might as well catch a few cycles, or maybe even _megacycles_, of recharge before going back to work.

He deserved a recharge nap. No objections? Good…

"_Rodimus to Hot Shot."_

A blink. "…Huh?"

"_What's your status?"_

The latter, upon realizing what had just happened, quickly jerked out of his surprisingly silent reverie (to his standards anyway), his optics shuttering rapidly as he stumbled to his pedes, a servo already hastily reaching for his comlink receiver.

"_Come in Hot Shot! You there kid?"_

The youth fumbled clumsily about for his voice, his mouth components working strenuously to find his words. "Y-yes sir." he stammered, a rather startled edge lining his audial output. "What is it?"

The aggravated groan that came in response to his tangled reply provoked a faint wince to contort upon Hot Shot's face, accompanied by the slightest of 'clicks'; the sound of his dental components 'clacking' momentarily against each other as he clenched his jaw components tensely together. Wheezing faintly, a single dry laugh managed to pass through his lips components as the corners of his mouth twitched upward into an anxious smile, "Sorry 'bout that, chief… kinda… tuned out for a moment there… heh…"

When no answer came, the Elite Guard minor cleared his vocal receptors with a light grunt and instead went with the option of proceeding with the supposed topic which, judging by the tone of Rodimus' voice earlier, had to be important. "A-anyway sir… you were saying?"

Another vent.

"_A progress report," _drawled the tan Prime on the other end irritably. _"I said I wanted your status... How're things looking over in your position?" _Rodimus stressed each word as slowly and as patiently as he possibly could.

When it came to missions- there was no such thing as a 'coolant break' on his watch.

With a flickering scope of the bare ground before him, Hot Shot shrugged, fully aware that Rodimus couldn't see this action, and that he was merely doing it upon impulse.

"Nothing."

The youngster gave his surroundings a quick screening with his scanners for confirmation. "… So far anyway…" he mumbled quietly to himself. He lifted his arm, and projected a small holographic screen, skimming across the lines of diagnostic code with scrutinizing optics. "Whenever they went offline," he now spoke with a higher volume setting, "and whichever 'Cons or random 'bots that were responsible, are long gone according to my sensors."

Hot Shot then shut down his ultrasound, as he did simultaneously with his coherently lit monitor. "What about you?" the minor quirked an optic ridge curiously, "Find anything useful?"

"No." came Rodimus' blunt reply, "Everything _seems _to be clear here…"

A brief interval of silence rose on the other end as the leader briskly ran the available options through his processor; and for that short moment, Hot Shot had hoped that the Team Athenia leader would change his mind about the assignment.

"-… _but,_ just in case, we should stay a few more megacycles for a final scope of the place before reporting back to Cybertron Command."

It was Hot Shot's turn to groan now.

"_Megacycles_?" he repeated whiningly into his comlink, "If you ask me, we should just hitchhike it outta here _ASAP_," subconsciously he swept his arm towards the arid landscape, "this mission's nothin' more than a bucket of spare parts!"

The young bot was now on the borderline of a 'full-on' rant, clearly distressed with the idea of having his circuits fried out from even _more _reconnaissance. If they did anymore of this, Hot Shot swore, that he would become the first 'bot in history- just to go offline from a simple processor ache!

He would have rather sawed his own stabilizing servo off than to even _think_ about continuing this special operation!

Screw the 'Ultra-Magnus'-direct-orders' card!

If this was _really _what intelligence officers did- sitting around on their chassis, doing absolutely nothing for megacycles on end while they stared at something totally useless- he still couldn't believe that he actually had once held the hopes of becoming one in the first place during his Academy days.

"_Can't believe I'm saying this… but- the kid's right."_

It took several nano-clicks for both the head Autobot and subordinate to process what they had just heard. Hot Shot's lower jaw component slowly losing sensation as his CPU gradually began to filter the information through his currently dazed and numb processor.

"_Red Alert, shouldn't you be backing me up, and not the other way around?"_ questioned Rodimus, his voice lacking an unusual shortfall of control.

Meanwhile, shaking his helm to and fro, Hot Shot finally managed to splutter the single word that he had been longing to say for several nano-clicks, his programming still fuzzy in a combination of triumph, smugness, and mainly, astonishment. "_Really_?"

Rodimus suppressed yet _another _sigh, and as an alternative, brought an archery-callused servo towards his olfactory sensory plating and pinching it lightly, in a last ditch, poignant attempt to prevent from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time- especially in front of his teammates.

And just when things couldn't get any more awkward- Ironhide pitched in.

"_Ditto from me head honcho," _the country bot's thick, rustic, 'energon-farm' accent pierced through the static that crackled, faded into the background of the comlink frequency.

"_Same here. My pedes are killin' me, just by standing in the same place for 'primus-knows' how long, Rodimus." _Brawn grumbled curtly, bending his legs at the joints, evoking several high pitched squeaks from the cold, metal plating to resonate from it. _"Face it, there's nothin' on this rock to look for!"_

At this, the Autobot prodigy took the liberty of leaning against a nearby rock as he crossed his arms and patiently waited for his team to each and individually voice out their particular concerns and or complaints of any kind. After all, _what kind of a leader would he be if he didn't give his fellows the chance to contribute once in a while?_ Besides…

It was obvious that he was out voted, a fight he just couldn't win. Not this time… and, from the looks of things… this was going to take a while.

"_Not to be the detective here, sir-"_

_Oh great. It's testimony. _

"_-which I am clearly not for the record but-" _the cleft chinned bot hesitated for a second, unsure whether he even had the _right _to pose an argument against the leader of Team Athenia, "-_don't y'all find it just a wee bit kooky, that no matter what we do: there's not a single dog-gone trace of a 'Con that's been lurkin' and what-not 'round these here parts?" _

Gears began to turn at this, another silence rose between the teammates, the electrical interference being the one, sole resonance that managed to reach the only audio receptors available in the comlink channel shared between the members of Team Athenia.

Rodimus shuttered his optics a moment, allowing them to dim slightly in grim trepidation… he just couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding, the inkling pulsing unnervingly away through his fuel lines, as if some sort of arcane creature of minacious forces had crawled, crawled menacingly out of the darkest corners in the recesses of his mind.

The silence was finally broken by the dour, monotone voice of Red Alert, _"I agree."_ her audial receptors faltered faintly, most likely still tense from its lack of use throughout the conversation. Or, at least, that's what the others thought, since it was always like her to be 'the bot of few words' in the unit. _"This isn't making any sense, Rodimus. If we were ordered to investigate a Decepticon ambush-, how is it that our sensors are telling us that there weren't any Decepticons to begin with?"_

_Oh slag… why did she always have to be right?_

"There are many possibilities…! I-it could be that the Decepticons were doing something to mask their energy signatures," countered the tan Prime, rather he simply received a snort of contempt from Brawn, "-it's either that or… they maybe just hired a couple of assassins that we were never aware… of… "

For a while, no words were exchanged between the five Autobots; truly saturninity at its finest. It was during this short interval of quiet, did Rodimus at last let the paranoia dwelling inside him escape.

"_Or," _Ironhide cut through the silence, _"maybe it isn't 'Cons at all."_

On her assigned sector of the foreign moon, Red Alert's optics narrowed as she brought a contemplating servo to her chin, viz scanners knitted in suspicion- her mulling face.

"…_he's on to something… what if it isn't?"_ she reasoned. Her voice broke as she spoke. _"What if we're dealing with a new threat? A new enemy to defend against, added to our agenda? Which happens to be long enough thank you very much." _the medic vented a sigh, her optics dimming, "_This is bad news, Rodimus… we need to do something. And it needs to happen now."_

Rodimus was at loss for words, he latched a servo onto his throat cables for a moment as he attempted to regain control over his vocal receptors, only managing several shaky vents in result. The young prodigy jerked the appendage away- he couldn't take it anymore.

The Prime abruptly rose from the rock he previously leaned against as his optics briskly shuttered closed. His processor was growing foggier, clouding with all the fear and dread he had kept bottled inside of him for so many megacycles, now, bursting out like an oil leak.

"_Alright I admit it_," Rodimus exclaimed, a metallic hand slapping forcefully against his forehead, _"Something weird's going on, a-and I've been ignoring my central processor for way too long- it isn't the 'Cons." _

"_So what's the plan? What's that "something" we need to do?"_ Hot Shot quickly intervened, a wave of slight panic rising through his cables.

After listening to his older teammates quarrel about the case, he felt it obligatory that he make an input. The matter was getting serious, and the possible solutions, worse by the second.

He needed to help, in any way.

"_Something?" _yelled Brawn incredulously into his receiver, unknowingly earning light flinches from each of the members of Team Athenia, _"-I'll tell you "something" we need to do- we patch through back to base, give 'em a heads up on these poozers, and deal with 'em ASAP!"_

Rodimus, who had eventually managed to salvage the left over common sense in his muddled CPU, clenched his servos; balling them into tight fists as he mustered the leadership suave others had told him countless of times, that he had been blessed by Primus with.

"_All right everyone, settle down!"_ he ordered, and almost immediately, the entire unit fell silent. Their reaction was swift, clean, and without question.

"_Now let's just think for a minute." _Rodimus began, _"So if these bots weren't taken offline by 'Cons, and by some other type of bot, how do we find them?" _the Prime paused as he accessed a file in his scanner systems- to the most recent results. _"According to my sensors, the victims of the ambush were last located in a nearby mineral structure-"_

"_In other words- a cave." _interjected Hot Shot.

The leader nodded, _"Yes." _was his curt answer.

He then directed his gaze towards his communicator, and briskly inputting the numbers for the longitude and latitude angle degrees of said cavern, he broadcasted them out as a transmission to his fellows.

"_I'm sending you all the co-ordinates. Rendezvous there in four cycles."_ he ordered, _"We're going to get to the bottom of this if it's the last thing we do."_

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Not bad for a rookie, Trans-geek, fiction author right? Please tell me what you think and until next time... REVIEW!_


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